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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25296793">You Asked Me for a Flower, I Brought You a Bouquet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/voyagerthirteen/pseuds/voyagerthirteen'>voyagerthirteen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Hanahaki Disease, Heavy Angst, Illnesses, M/M, Mild Blood, Mutual Pining, Near Death, Oblivious Harley Keener, Oblivious Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Requited Love, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:22:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,927</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25296793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/voyagerthirteen/pseuds/voyagerthirteen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is sick. Harley is the cure.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harley Keener/Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You Asked Me for a Flower, I Brought You a Bouquet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Right off the bat! This does have trigger warnings!! So please be careful when reading this!<br/>Trigger warnings are as follows:</p><p>Vomiting<br/>Graphic descriptions of the Hanahaki Disease<br/>Descriptions of not being able to breathe<br/>Blood<br/>I dropped a lot of f-bombs in here so if you're sensitive to the word take caution</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>In the air</p>
  <p>Suspended here<br/>
With thousands of words we've spoken<br/>
Can I soar<br/>
Up through the clouds<br/>
Leave all of this behind</p>
  <p>-windswept by crywolf</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Monday-</p><p> </p><p>Peter wakes up to the smell of flowers, it’s strong and undeniably rose. He’s always liked roses, mainly because May liked roses. What May liked, he ended up liking. So when the rose smell grows stronger with each intake of air, Peter doesn’t worry, he can hear May showering so he assumes it’s a new body wash. It is the most logical reason. He continues like he would any day, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, eating breakfast. The works.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gone May, love you!” he calls over his shoulder. He hears May bid him goodbye through the door, hears the squeak of the shower knob. </p><p> </p><p>Peter doesn’t think twice when the rose smell follows him to school, the scent must have rubbed off when May was showering. It is the most logical reason. </p><p> </p><p>There’s a pain in Peter’s chest when his eyes land on Harley, it's quick, hardly noticeable, but Peter notices. It is his body after all. Peter assumes its nothing more than muscle strain, the witch they had fought Friday night did leave Peter sore and aching all over. His muscles were still recovering, still sore, this is the most logical reason. </p><p> </p><p>“Peter, hey.” Harley greets, Harley smiles. Peter can see how the exhaustion still clings to the country boy, can see the hardly noticeable bags forming under the other’s eyes. Yet he still smiles at Peter. Peter smiles back.</p><p> </p><p>There is another jab at Peter’s chest, the smell of rose grows stronger. Peter frowns. This causes Harley to do the same. “You okay?” Harley asks, his exhaustion now mixing in with worry. Peter smiles, albeit weak, and rubs at his chest. “Yeah, my chest just hurts, still sore from Friday.” Harley winces in sympathy. They go into the school.</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the day plays like any other day would, except Peter’s chest aches when Harley becomes the topic of his fantasies, the rose smell grows stronger. Peter shakes it off, the fight was tough, he is sore. One of the girls must have sprayed some sort of perfume before the teacher came back in. These are the most logical reasons. </p><p> </p><p>Peter returns home, achy and tired, he breathes through his mouth because he isn’t getting enough air through his nose. He isn’t getting enough air at all it seems. He rubs at his chest again, it hurts <em>so much </em>but he’s just sore. This is what being sore feels like. Except he’s been sore before, plenty of times. This is not that. But Peter will continue to tell himself that he is sore because it's the most logical reason. Peter doesn’t eat (he’ll get the lecture of a lifetime from May, Tony, and Cho (in that order)), he doesn’t think he’d be able to hold anything down. His stomach growls anyway, so he eats.</p><p> </p><p>And he was right, he doesn’t hold down his food.</p><p> </p><p>Shortly after eating he’s clinging onto the toilet bowl, retching and then throwing up. What comes up isn’t exactly what he ate though. What comes up is rose petals, pretty and pink but covered in Peter’s food and saliva. They swirl in the toilet bowl.</p><p> </p><p>Peter throws up again. And again. And again.</p><p> </p><p>Every time he is greeted with pretty pink rose petals covered in food and saliva. When he finally stops throwing up, Peter doesn’t move. He stares down at the dirty water, stares down at the petals, pretty pink just peeking through. He stares. Pale and cold. He would have been staring for longer if it weren’t for his phone buzzing once, twice, three times. </p><p> </p><p>It's Harley. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Country boy </em>
</p><p>Hey. (sent at 9:30)</p><p>Petey. (sent at 8:31)</p><p>Do you have the notes for chem? Mj refuses to let me copy hers and Ned isn’t answering. (sent at 9:33)</p><p> </p><p>Peter says he’ll send Harley a picture in a minute. Harley says he’s the best. Peter smiles down at his phone, Harley thinks he’s the best. Peter’s cheeks flush red. His stomach churns and well… let’s say Peter never sends Harley the notes for chem.</p><p> </p><p>There is no logical reason for this.</p><p> </p><p>Tuesday-</p><p> </p><p>Peter wakes up to the smell of lilac, it’s too sweet for his sensitive nose, his everything is sore. His knees still hurt from last night, his eyes are red and puffy from crying, his stomach- gods his stomach. He almost doesn’t register that his chest aches more than it did yesterday, that it aches more <em>frequently</em> than it did yesterday. He gets ready for school, his movements lethargic and woozy. May isn’t there to see him in the current state that he’s in, that, he is grateful for. Peter does not eat breakfast. He will not make the same mistake he made the night before.</p><p> </p><p>He walks to school without listening to music, he didn’t charge his phone last night, too preoccupied with throwing up. When he gets to school he sits across from Ned and lays his head down, there is no handshake, let alone a greeting. He can hear Ned’s heartbeat pick up, his friend is worried. As he should be.</p><p> </p><p>Peter smells Harley walk in before he sits down next to him. Peter can hear Ned writing on what he can only guess to be paper. The writing is too loud, the lilac is too strong. Harley says nothing, instead, he taps on the table. Lightly, as quietly as he can.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> O k a y ? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He taps out. Peter taps back, his hands tremble, just slightly.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> T i r e d . </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s technically not a lie, Peter is tired, dead tired. It feels as if even his own skin is too heavy for him. Harley taps out nothing else, so Peter doesn’t either. The lilac smell does grow stronger when Harley squeezes Peter’s shoulder. Peter wants to throw up again. When the bell rings Peter jolts, his heart hammering in his chest, his eyes wild. “Woah, hey, calm down.” Harley talks quietly. He wraps an arm around Peter’s shoulders and steers him towards the cafeteria exit. “I’m sorry about the notes.” Peter apologies, he isn’t sure if Harley hears him. He wasn’t sure if he heard himself. “No big deal, I got them from Ned.” Harley pulls Peter closer, steering him through the crowd of high schoolers.</p><p> </p><p>Peter loves him. </p><p> </p><p>His chest aches, the sweet smell of lilac is worse than the smell of roses. He feels so, so sick.</p><p> </p><p>The day goes on horribly, Peter feels like he’s swimming, feels like at any minute he’ll lose the lunch Harley, Ned, and Mj forced him to eat. Peter doesn’t remember the rest of the day, he remembers Tony mentioning group patrol with him, Peter and Harley. Peter says he’ll join.</p><p>Peter does not join. After throwing up the lunch and avoiding May’s worried eyes, Peter collapses into bed, hugging the stuffed bear Harley had won for him a little while back close to his chest. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You won the bear!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I won it for you, here.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Me? Why?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Because dipshit, the only thing you're good at aiming is your damn webs… and I saw you lookin’ at it.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Peter’s chest hurts even more, the smell of lilacs and roses causes him to throw up again. There is no food this time, just blood and roses and lilacs. </p><p> </p><p>Peter cries, there is no logical reason as to why any of this is happening. </p><p> </p><p>Wednesday- </p><p> </p><p>When Peter’s alarm goes off he doesn’t move, just puts the damn thing on snooze and rolls over. It’s so hard to breathe. He smells something he can’t name, so he doesn’t try. The phone goes off again, he mutes it. He can’t hear May’s breathing or the shower running, so he assumes she’s at work. That is the logical reason. </p><p> </p><p>Peter looks at the time, if he stays in bed he will be late for school. He can’t find a reason to care. It's just one day, it won’t kill him. </p><p> </p><p>When Peter’s phone buzzes it's a text from Harley, asking if he’s okay. Peter lies and says he’s fine, he apologizes for missing the group patrol. When Harley responds Peter is coughing violently, petals come up with every cough. It hurts almost as bad as throwing up. Peter doesn’t respond to Harley’s message. He doesn’t even look at it. It’s hard to breathe.</p><p> </p><p>When his phone goes off again, its May, she’s asking if he’s okay, why he isn’t at school. Peter tells May what he told Harley and expects it to be over. Except it’s not, because not even 30 minutes later, Tony is knocking on the front door of the apartment asking to be let in. When Peter doesn’t get out of bed Tony lets himself in, if he has a key then why bother knocking? </p><p> </p><p>“Kid?” Tony knocks on Peter’s door, creaks it open when Peter grumbles an annoyed yet sleepy come in. “What’re you doin’ here?” Peter asks, rolling over to properly look at Tony, grateful that he threw away the grocery bag full of bloodied petals an hour ago. Tony takes a seat at the foot of Peter’s bed, patting the teen’s ankle. “May and Harley are worried.” Tony sighs out, he raises his hands in surrender when he catches Peter’s glare. “Hey don’t shoot the messenger.” Tony doesn’t ask Peter if he’s okay, he can tell by the bags under the teen’s eyes and the way he shakes that he obviously isn’t. “How about this,” Tony starts, standing suddenly and clapping his hands. “Since today is a lab day, how about you start early?” he smiles at Peter, his smile grows when Peter smiles back, albeit weakly. “Okay, get dressed, I’ll be in the living room.” Tony leaves Peter to get dressed. Peter gets winded from just pulling off his shirt. <em>Fuck</em> why is it so hard to breathe? When Peter comes out he’s wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of sweats. Tony raises an eyebrow, “Cold?” a smile teases at his lips. Peter rolls his eyes and says nothing. With the elevator broken (again), the duo take the stairs, it is silent between them. Tony smells like Harley, living in the same space does that to someone’s scent. </p><p> </p><p>Peter’s chest hurts. It’s getting harder to breathe. He feels like coughing. He feels like throwing up. </p><p> </p><p>He does neither.</p><p> </p><p>When they get to the car, Peter turns on the seat warmer, sighs his thanks when Tony turns on the heat. The ride is silent, save the radio, save Tony’s breathing- Tony’s heartbeat. A song comes on that Peter knows almost right away, its currently Harley’s favorite. Peter doesn’t mention it, tries to fight down his body’s attempt to cough. The aroma of flowers suddenly coming back tenfold, roses and lilacs and the flower he can’t name. He can feel the petals resting in this throat, he wants to throw up. Wants to cough them up.</p><p> </p><p>“God this song is annoying, I don’t see why Harley loves it so much.” Tony grumbles.</p><p> </p><p>At the mention of Harley, Peter coughs, petals fall, and Tony… well, Tony panics. The car comes to a hard stop and turns right, they’re turning too early, Peter doesn’t know where they’re going. He tries to ask but all that comes out are more coughs, more petals, more <em>fucking</em> petals. He can’t fucking breathe correctly. Tony is speaking gentle words to Peter, running one hand through the soft curls while using the other to drive. Peter can’t focus, can’t stop coughing, can’t stop crying. The car comes to a screeching halt in front of a building Peter has never seen before but probably swung by dozens of times. </p><p> </p><p>“Stay here.” Tony orders, getting out the car and jogging to the building’s front door. Peter watches as Tony doesn’t bother with knocking and just invites himself in. When Tony comes back out Doctor Strange and a man Peter doesn’t recognize are close behind. Tony opens the passenger door and helps Peter into the building, no one says anything. The man Peter doesn’t recognize hands him a cup of tea, “Drink.” is all the man says. With a reassuring nod from both Doctor Strange and Tony, Peter drinks. Peter can feel himself breathing just a little bit better.</p><p> </p><p>“If this is what I think it is, we’re running out of time.” The man says, looking between Doctor Strange and Tony. “I knew that fight was too easy, damn it. Wong, do you know if there’s a cure?” Doctor Strange asks. Wong shakes his head, “No, but I know what the sickness is called, if there is a cure I’ll find it before the week is over.” Wong looks over at Peter who is sipping at the tea, tired doe eyes watching the exchange. “Tell me,” Wong says, he looks angry. Peter guesses that’s his natural look. “When did the symptoms start?” before Peter can ask what the symptoms are, Doctor Strange is giving him a full breakdown. “Chest pains, smelling flowers, throwing up, coughing, trouble breathing.”</p><p> </p><p>Peter stays quiet, the chest pains started Sunday but it all went to hell Monday, not being able to breathe started this morning. That’s what he tells the three men. Wong curses and leaves, says they might not have until the end of the week. Doctor Strange opens a portal to the towers MedBay, “Keep Peter on oxygen, let me know the minute he gets worse.” Doctor Strange says to Tony, already beginning to walk in the direction Wong went in. The two step through the portal, Tony doing what Doctor Strange said as soon as Peter sits down. Neither say anything while Tony sets Peter up, it’s silent. Peter doesn’t like it.</p><p> </p><p>“I should have asked after Strange and I talked,” Tony says, he sounds disappointed, not that Peter didn’t tell him but that he didn’t ask. Before Peter can defend Tony from Tony, the mechanic speaks again. “After the fight with that witch, Strange was talking about how she went down too easily and without some big dramatic exit, apparently that’s something witches do, go out with the intentions of dragging someone with them. Strange said it wasn’t right… that nothing about that fight was right.” Tony sighs, takes Peter’s head in his hands and presses a kiss to his forehead. Peter apologizes, he should have said something when the symptoms first hit.</p><p> </p><p>Fuck he should have said something.</p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t your fault, get some sleep Pete, you look exhausted as hell. I’ll be right outside, someone’s gotta tell May.” Tony rakes his hand through Peter’s hair. Peter can’t imagine how May is going to take the news, can’t imagine how Ned or Mj or Harley will take the news.</p><p> </p><p>Peter coughs, no petals fall.</p><p> </p><p>So he does what Tony told him to do, he rolls over and tries to get comfy with the oxygen mask strapped to his face.</p><p> </p><p>When Peter falls asleep it is 12 pm on Wednesday. When he wakes, he wakes to violent coughing and bloody petals. It is Thursday, it is 3 am. And Peter can’t stop coughing, can’t breathe. May rubs his back while holding a small trash can for the rest of the night.</p><p> </p><p>Thursday-</p><p> </p><p>No one will tell Harley what’s going on. When Harley asks about Peter Tony just gives him this look and says he’ll explain everything later. When Harley asks Doctor Strange, the sorcerer says nothing, just keeps flipping through books. Harley isn’t allowed into the MedBay, so he knows Peter must be down there.</p><p> </p><p>“Harley,” Doctor Strange calls, setting down the book he was going through. Harley turns, he still has sometime before he has to be at school. “Have you been experiencing any chest pains, smelling flowers, throwing up, coughing, or trouble breathing?” he asks, looking at Harley with a look that Harley can’t quite place. When Harley says no, Doctor Strange goes back to looking through his book, he mutters a slightly enthusiastic “that’s a relief”.</p><p> </p><p>Harley is left confused and worried, he goes to school anyways, Tony isn’t giving him a choice. The day goes by painfully slow, Ned and Mj ask him questions. It’s not like he can tell them anything, he doesn’t know himself. The three suffer. The three worry.</p><p> </p><p>When Harley returns Tony has a hopeful glint in his eyes, May is standing by Doctor Strange, the Doctor is smiling slightly. “Harley, do you know if Peter has a-” Tony stammers, Harley can tell by the look in his eyes that he feels bad for asking this. “Has Peter developed any feelings for anyone?” Doctor Strange finishes where Tony couldn’t. Harley scrunches his nose, he thinks, Peter had a crush on Mj but that died when Mj came out as lesbian. Peter had a crush on Michale B Jordan but then again who wouldn’t? </p><p> </p><p>“No, if he does he hasn’t told me.” Harley shakes his head, feels guilt pool in his stomach when he’s met with disappointed stares. Before he can ask again what’s happening Friday is alerting them that Peter is awake and coughing again. May leaves, Harley’s never seen her move that fast before, Tony and a grumpy looking man follow behind. Harley watches them go. No one will tell him what’s going on.</p><p> </p><p>Doctor Strange watches as everyone except Harley leaves, he rubs at his chin, he thinks. Tony didn’t want to let Harley in on this because he was afraid Harley would overwork himself trying to help. </p><p> </p><p>“Peter has developed hanahaki disease.” Doctor Strange says, the book he was reading that morning now floats open beside him. The Doctor continues explaining before Harley can ask what it is. “Its a sickness sprouted from unrequited love. It comes in the form of a curse. Flowers will grow in the person’s lungs until it either suffocates them, the flowers are surgically removed, or the person they’ve fallen in love with returns their feelings.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you’re saying if we don’t find the person Peter’s fallen in love with he will...”</p><p> </p><p>“He will die, yes.”</p><p> </p><p>Harley falls silent, thinking, panicking, thinking. “What if the flowers are removed?” He asks, he can’t think of anyone Peter would be in love with, he can think of a few crushes… but not love. Doctor Strange sighs, “If the flowers are removed surgically then Peter will lose all capacity to love romantically.” </p><p> </p><p>That’s all Harley needs to know before he’s moving. Though he stops when Doctor Strange puts his hand on Harley’s shoulder, “We don’t have much time, I haven’t told the others this but the chances of Peter making it to Saturday are extremely low.”</p><p> </p><p>Harley nods, he does not sleep that night.</p><p> </p><p>Friday-</p><p> </p><p>When Peter wakes up, he is greeted with nothing but pain. His chest feels like it’s about to split, his head hurts from lack of air. He hasn’t spoken since Wednesday, speaking normally leads to coughing, and coughing ends up in not being able to breathe.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, baby,” May’s voice is quiet, barely a whisper. Peter looks at her with tired, red-rimmed eyes. He smiles, or at least tries. May smiles back. She gently combs her fingers through Peter’s hair, gently pulling at the knots. “We figured out what’s happening to you,” she says, shushing Peter when he moves to sit up. “Its called hanahaki disease. You’re coughing up… coughing up the petals because your feelings for someone aren't being returned. Peter, are you… are you in love, sweetheart?” May approaches the subject with such a gentle tone that Peter wants to cry.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Is he in love? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Is that what this is? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Peter cries and nods, May hugs him. “Can you tell me who it is? If you don’t want to tell me then can you at least tell Tony? Or Doctor Strange?” Peter opens his mouth, he wants to tell May, really he does. But he’s coughing again before he can even get Harley’s name out of his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Harley doesn’t leave his room, too busy trying to find someone Peter could have possibly fallen in love with. He’s looked at almost everyone at the school. He can’t think of any reason why any of these people would spark a flame in Peter’s heart. </p><p> </p><p>He can’t think of anyone worthy of Peter’s love.</p><p> </p><p>He can’t think of Peter being in love with someone else when he’s in love with Peter.</p><p> </p><p>This is how Harley passes the time, asking around and seeing who Peter has any feelings for. Asking himself if maybe it’s him. </p><p> </p><p>By the time the sunsets, Harley is still at square one, still trying to figure Peter out. Maybe Peter just didn’t trust him enough to tell him, maybe Peter was going to tell him and just never got the chance. Whatever the reason, Harley is pulled out of his head by Tony knocking on his door. “Come on,” Harley answers, turning around in his chair to look at Tony. The man looks exhausted, his eyes are red, Harley hasn’t seen Tony this bad in a while.</p><p> </p><p>“Strange said Peter wasn’t going to last much longer… uh if-” Harley doesn’t let Tony finish, he’s moving past Tony and towards the elevator. He’s crying. </p><p> </p><p>When Harley gets down to the MedBay, May is crying, Pepper is holding her, they’re both crying. Harley doesn’t ask if he can go in, he just does. “Peter…” he speaks quietly, his voice a phantom to his own ears. “Hey, Darlin’.” Harley is quiet, he takes a seat next to Peter’s bed. Grabs the boy’s hand, uses his other to run through Peter’s hair. “Strange… Strange told me what’s happening. I’m sorry, sorry that I couldn’t help.” Harley sighs, his throat hurts. “But if this really is how you… how you… you know what I’m trying to say,”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> If this is how you die. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I want you to know somethin’- it’s- it’s important.” Harley sighs. Who would have thought confessing your love was so difficult? “I haven’t been alive all that long… the only kind of love I know is the family type. But with you around, I’ve learned to know what it’s like to love someone romantically.” Harley speaks through his tears, his eyes meet May’s. She smiles weakly.</p><p> </p><p>“What I’m trying to say is, from the moment I laid eyes on you I knew that you’d be worth the heartbreak. That I’d fall in love with you again and again. I might not be the one you’re coughin’ up flowers for, but if the tables were turned and I was where you are… I’d be coughin’ up flowers for you.” </p><p> </p><p>There is no response, just Peter’s breathing, albeit weakly. Harley squeezes Peter’s hand, nearly jumps out of his skin when Peter squeezes back. Their eyes meet. Peter tries to convey everything he’s possibly feeling into his stare, Harley seems to understand.</p><p> </p><p>Harley holds Peter’s hand the rest of the night, quietly talks to him. Peter listens to everything Harley has to say. He does not cough a single time, in fact, he feels himself beginning to breathe better. The smell of flowers growing more and more distant with each hour that passes.</p><p> </p><p>When the sun rises, Harley is fast asleep, his head resting on Peter’s lap. Peter’s fingers running through the blonde locks. All Peter does his stare. </p><p> </p><p>All Peter does is love.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>All alone<br/>
I feel your breath<br/>
I hear your whispers<br/>
Dark like storms<br/>
Telling me, "Dear, I'll never leave your mind."</p>
  <p>-windswept by crywolf</p>
</blockquote>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you've read through thank you so much for reading! This is the highest my word count has ever been so you can catch me celebrating. You can check out my Tumblr at https://aattaaboy.tumblr.com/ If you enjoyed reading this check out the parkner discord! https://discord.gg/WzqsNA8 </p><p>Thank you again for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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